


New Way Home

by iconis



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-25
Updated: 2006-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iconis/pseuds/iconis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny has a habit of escaping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Way Home

Danny stumbles out of the stall - he's six beers gone to the wind and really, zipping up his pants shouldn't be this hard, right? He tugs the zipper up and heads for the sink, and suddenly there's a wall of warm against him, something that feels and smells familiar.

"Okay, Messer, it's definitely time to go home."

It takes him a while to realize who it is and whether he's just hallucinating stuff - that happened to him once when he got high with Louie when he was sixteen and thought he kept hearing his grandpa talking, which, y'know, impossible, 'cause the man'd been in the grave for a good ten years by then – but no, it really is Flack.

"Don! Where'd you fly in from?" A little hiccup in his voice has all to do with the salty food he's been having all night, not the beer, he thinks. "I ain't goin' nowhere yet, Donnyboy. I can still walk a straight line, that's more than enough."

Flack sounds disgustingly mature and calm when he takes him by the shoulder. "Either you're goin' home, Messer, or I'll drop you off at the drunk tank. It's your call, Danny, but you aren't stayin' here."

Something adolescent spikes up in him and he almost shakes Don's hand off him. "Who died and made you my mother, Don? Lemme have one more beer and I'll let you take me home."

The snort Flack lets our is short and rude. "Mikey wouldn't serve you a glass of water much less a beer at this point. C'mon, Danny. I'm takin' you home, you can thank me later, 'right?"

***

That's all that Danny remembers the next morning. He's dragging behind, analyzing the fibers from a big shoot-out from yesterday, and he can almost smell Mac's disapproval. Montana keeps grinning at him knowingly, making remarks and teasing him and irrational anger wells up in him. She's not his friend, not like Aiden was, she has no right acting like she has any sort of influence on him. But when he looks at her, sees the friendly, gentle look in her eyes, he shrugs a little, murmurs a little explanation, and turns his back on her. This isn't the time for kindness and sweet words, and Montana quiets down after a while, works alongside him, and for a moment it feels almost normal.

***

Flack walks in the lab, wearing his black suit and a white shirt and a somber look, and walks straight to Danny, nodding when he gets close enough.

"Any news about the vic?" Danny asks – there's a young woman in the hospital, recovering from a gang rape and multiple stab wounds, and he's just finished processing her clothes. Flack shakes his head.

"Nah. The docs say she's out of the woods, but it'll be at least another day or two before we'll get to talk to her." Danny senses the frustration in Flack, understands where it comes from, because sometimes, there are cases that crawl under your skin and itch so that you want to scratch until you bleed. You've done all you can at this point, now it's up to the evidence, up to the girl to make things better, and Danny looks at Don and finds himself talking.

"You wanna come over tonight? There's a game on, and I thought I'd cook somethin'." The look in Flack's eyes makes the nausea worth it.

"Sure, buddy. I'll bring the beer." Don's already moving away. "I'll see you later, ‘kay? Catch a ride with me after work?"

Danny nods to the empty lab, and turns back to his computer.

***

Flack is fun, he's straight-forward and funny and sarcastic and a lot smarter than he likes people to think he is, and really, Danny's having a good time until Flack stands up.

"I should be headin' home, man, early mornin' and all." Danny's smile fades a little, but he nods, yeah, Flack's right.

"You could stay over." The silence hangs over them for a while. "I mean, the couch folds out and it's ridiculous to drive home at this hour when you've got to go in early and all." Danny wonders where all the words come from because what he's thinking is please don't go yet it's too quiet in here. Flack shrugs.

"'s all the same for me, if I can shower and shave in the morning."

***

Danny lies awake and listens to Don tossing and turning on the creaky fold-out couch, and it's not the first time Don's stayed over, it just feels like it. Danny doesn't quite understand why.

He gets up and goes to the bathroom, and when he's going back to his own bed, he hears an all-suffering sigh from Don, and that's all it takes, that's what it takes for him to walk across the tiny living room and crawl up to Don and silence his questions with a kiss. Don fights back for what feels like about .3 seconds, and suddenly the contact is there, Don's wrapping his arms around him and rolling on top of him and just, hello, Don Flack.

Danny kisses Don, hard and needy and raw, until his lips are swollen and his head is swimming and he has to pull back to breathe. He slides his hands along Don's back, pushing the wifebeater up and off of him and then he has to take over, rolling them over, sliding down, dropping little kisses on Don's heated skin. He pushes his underwear down, and breathes in the strong smell of him, and then he takes Don into his mouth, Don who's half-hard and gasping for breath and reaching for something to hold on to.

Don tastes so good, salty and tart in his mouth, and Danny loves the heaviness and heat of him against his tongue. Danny loves sucking cock, it makes him feel strong and sexy and desirable, and when Flack, fully hard now, twitching in his mouth, can't help thrusting a little, it makes Danny feel more in control than in months. He sucks Flack off, slowly, carefully, skillfully, and when Don comes, he licks and sucks and swallows up every last drop of him.

He pulls back, shifts off Don's legs and looks at him. Don has his arm over his eyes, and he's still catching his breath, and when Danny pushes up to get away, strong fingers curl around his arm.

"What the fuck, Messer? Don't fucking run away from me." Flack sounds hoarse, he sounds mad, and Danny's almost ready to fight, almost ready to cuss Don off and call him a two-timing homophobic hypocrite, when Don pulls him into a kiss, another hard, hungry kiss and instead of curse words, the sound that comes out of Danny's mouth is a moan.

Flack hand is softer than he could imagine, rougher than someone's who's never experienced physical labor. He touches Danny carefully, wraps his fingers around his throbbing cock almost hesitantly, even though Danny knows this isn't the first time Don's been with a guy. The touch is still enough, just firm and knowing enough to elicit another moan. Don jerks him off slowly, too fucking slowly, like he actually wants to do this to Danny, and even when Danny comes, when he collapses into the couch after his orgasm, Don doesn't let go.

***

Danny wakes up in the morning, hot and sweaty and mouth tasting stale, like day-old spunk, and Don's still there, arm around his waist, drooling on his shoulder, and the affection he feels just kicks him in the gut, makes him draw in a deep breath. It's enough to stir Don awake, and when Don fucks him on the couch, fucks him so gently and carefully, fucks him like he loves him, cursing Don's name is the only way he stops himself from tearing up.

Later on, in the shower, Don washes himself quickly and efficiently and Danny grins at him, makes fun of him until Don swallows him down his throat and pushes his fingers inside him, and he's still slick and loose and sore from the first time, but it feels better than anything ever.

***

He walks in the lab day later, sore and tired, but feeling sharp, and when he looks around, taking it all in, he lets himself be happy.


End file.
